


FebuWhump2021 Day 28: “You have to let me go”

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: FebuWhump2021 [28]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Established Relationship, F/F, Fear of Death, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sad Ending, sentient mushrooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29754156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: The reader knows that this is the last time they’ll ever see River and find it difficult to let her leave.
Relationships: River Song/Reader
Series: FebuWhump2021 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156145
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	FebuWhump2021 Day 28: “You have to let me go”

The bioluminescent lights cast a cold blue glow over your room. The fungi sensed your morose and reacted accordingly. That was always the problem with psychic lighting: it was almost impossible to mask your mood. Sometimes, it was an advantage. Like, say, when the delectable River Song appeared unannounced and invited herself in. The psychic mushrooms overhead sensed your immediate desire for one another and their bioluminescence emanated a crimson shine. The whole apartment took on a different feel, warm and intimate and, as River so often said, just a little sexy.

Now, though, the chilly, dispassionate blue reflected your sorrow.

While River showered in the warm springs, you’d sneaked a look in her diary. It was terrible, you knew, but you had little choice. With a woman like River, it always paid to know when you were. Time travellers made everything so complex. Reading her diary was the easiest way to place yourself within her time stream and avoid accidentally creating a paradox.

There had always been so many pages to go but this time her little blue book was full. Only one empty sheet left. You’d flicked back through the past few adventures, read the details, felt the sorrow that permeated every word. She was nearing the end of her time with him – with The Doctor – and you both knew what that meant. There would be no replacement book. Their next meeting would be final.

And, when that came to pass, it meant you would never see her again.

There was the chance, naturally, that a younger version of herself would stop by. That River, though, would not be the woman you slept beside last night. She wouldn’t be the woman that woke you with teasing kisses and held you close as you prepared breakfast. She wouldn’t have memories of when you made love beneath the asteroid field, or how you stole diamonds from the caves of Miniscaro Five. That River wouldn’t be the woman that looked at you with such warmth and affection, that carried your darkest secrets in her heart.

Yes, she’d still be River Song but she wouldn’t be the woman you loved.

You set her diary back on the central table, the veins of amber glittering through the stone surface. You paced aimlessly around your small abode, smiling through the tears as the crystal surfaces vibrated in harmony with River’s singing. Such a sad yet beautiful song, an Earth tune, apparently. There were no recordings of it on the galactic data core, though, so it only existed among your memories of her. One day, they too would fade.

A few minutes later, River emerged from the springs fresh and smiling. The blue lights cast sharp shadows over your face and hid your tears, gave you a moment to dry your eyes then return her bright expression. “Those springs do wonders. You know, I don’t think I’ve looked this fresh in a hundred years.”

“You look beautiful,” you said, stealing a light kiss. “Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?”

You slid an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against your body. It was a pointless plea. By the door, you saw her things, the suitcase that carried far more than should ever be possible, packed and waiting. You should be happy to have kept her for breakfast; River never stayed longer than she absolutely had to, always too much else to see, too many other hearts to break.

“Sweetie, you have to let me go,” River laughed. She cupped your cheeks and kissed you fiercely, the way she always did before leaving. A wonderful memory to keep you warm while she was away, she claimed. In truth, it was so she never had to say goodbye. It was far easier to kiss and run than linger and feel the sadness of parting. “It’s only a library, for goodness sake. Nothing on a fleet of cybermen. I’ll be back.”

No, she wouldn’t.

It was easier like this, though. You couldn’t keep her from destiny, certainly not for selfishness alone. So, you kissed her again. You savoured every brush of her fingers against your skin, lost yourself in her sweet perfume and the heat of her lips. You smiled as she took her bags and caught the kiss she blew you.

As the door shut, you held your fist to your chest and said a prayer for River Song, for the woman you loved.


End file.
